


Adrift and at Peace

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, Crossover, Spoilers, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-10-13
Updated: 2005-10-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 11:24:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12080094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Molly's home on a Friday night making herself porridge for dinner. She's not some demented miscreant out wandering the streets looking to lose her virginity under a lamppost.





	Adrift and at Peace

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

It takes Molly three days after the posters go up to sign up for YDA. Cos, see, in one corner, she's got her roommate Cassidy, who schedules two-to-five AM for floor-bathroom-toilet-bed acclimation. In another, she's got her before-asscrack-AM political science class. And in the last one, she's got her dad, the only man who can express flinching over the phone when his daughter slips the word "asscrack" into the conversation.

It's a trifecta of bullshit that Molly frankly doesn't want to put up with. Thus the Yale Debate Association becomes her happy, Utopian outlet (Justin laughed but Justin can go to hell; she saw Dartmouth's Mock Trial Society bookmarked on his computer before he "found himself" in his art, the soapboxing crazy).

She likes the first few meetings all right. She doesn't know the format, doesn't know an LO from an MO, but they let her yell and gesticulate like a drunken loon, so it all balances out. Nearly everyone is cynical and annoyed with something and it looks like Molly will never want for allies (friends are for children without high school degrees).

Then she meets Paris Geller.

Paris simultaneously fascinates, amuses and horrifies Molly. One night she arrived late to a meeting and Molly assumed she was either a young professor with a power complex or a wandering grad student with a power complex. But ten minutes into Paris's debate for televising capital punishment, she realizes Paris is just a sophomore with a complex complex.

According to Geraldine, their president, this is Paris's first year, but no one's brave enough to say novice to her face. And it's not like she needs guidance, anyway, when she's--voluntarily--critiquing the advanced debaters.

"Leader of Opposition, your constructive speech should run no longer than eight minutes. I want to assure you that while you believe you're clever and you have material stimulating enough to continue--you're not, you don't and no one appreciates your extra contribution of carbon monoxide."

Molly wonders about the chances of the queer thing hitting twice in one family. Her dad might know.

Paris doesn't come to every meeting, and she doesn't go to tournaments on the weekends. Actually, she only shows up when she's written a case to argue, and it usually contains the words "natural selection", "aberrant farce" or "negotiated evolution". Molly works on mimicking Paris's style until she's got it flawless. Four novices stop showing up to meetings, one develops an involuntary cringe whenever she smirks at him and the rest create a protective huddle during practice rounds behind the advanced debaters.

She's disappointed in her teammates for wilting so easily.

It only becomes a hindrance when people don't even want to debate *with* her. After Wednesday's meeting, Molly spends four unproductive--but theraputic--minutes bitching out her intended partner, Raquelle. Raquelle can't make the novice tournament at Boston University because of her mother's wisdom teeth.

"I have to drive her to the dentist," Raquelle insists. Molly is already shaking her head when she sees Paris descending the lecture hall stairs. Raquelle notices her, too, and starts talking fast while she crams her messenger bag. "I really want to go, but she won't be able to eat solid food and my sister usually cooks for her but she's at my dad's this weekend--"

"--And you have to spoonfeed her chicken soup and grits until she regains enough strength in her jaw to masticate her own food."

Raquelle, arm and strap frozen over her head, is stammering too badly to reply. Not that it'd matter if she could, since Paris has already walked past her and is zeroing in now on Molly.

A paradigmatic event, the meeting of the badass novices.

"You," Paris says, eyebrows drawn in, "your brother's gay."

And why did Molly imagine college would diverge from high school? She nods sullenly, grimacing as loudly as possible. She didn't think anyone'd heard when Tamantha from Philly looked through her wallet and said, "Ooh, that's the kid that got gay bashed at his prom!"

Paris isn't the type to fill silences with hmm'ing, and Molly's glad she's not the type to fidget. Finally Paris says, "And you're from Pittsburgh."

Probably hoping Paris won't remember her face if she leavesrightnow, Raquelle insinuates herself into a group of five or six girls and shuffles out without a backward glance. Caught up in scowling at her back, Molly hears Paris a few seconds late. "Yeah."

"Aruna Byer wrote an opinion piece last year on that gay club that got bombed."

"Oh, yeah. He was there." Justin, you spotlight skank.

There's another silence and it's more speculative than unsettling. Still, Molly doesn't quite like the way Paris is staring at her. That's a measuring stare. Then Paris starts talking, out of nowhere, simultaneously fierce and bored, "She's so maudlin I honestly expected her to write the piece in blood. She wouldn't have lived to see it published--she'd need a gallon to get past the first paragraph. The club. Avalon?"

Molly doesn't want to say, "Babylon," but she does and it's wrong.

"Ah. Okay." Paris barely blinks before she's moving again, without so much as a farewell.

Molly writes an angry E-Mail to her brother when she gets back to her room.

[YOUR GAYNESS PREVENTS ME FROM HAVING CONVERSATIONS.]

She goes to bed with her iPod on max volume so she doesn't hear Cassidy's epic battle with the door come three AM.

\---

Around noon the next day she gets an E-Mail back from Justin's address.

[Have you tried changing your last name? They say marriage helps with that. Unless you've turned neo-feminist, in which case your name will be blacklisted.]

Justin, under the belief that all women are empowered, probably doesn't know the correct context of the word "feminist", or that it is not interchangeable with the word "female". Therefore,

[Why do you have Justin's Blackberry?]

When Molly went off to college and Justin found a place in New York, their mom made them both subscribe for Blackberries and Verizon phones. It's a sweet deal. She can walk around campus and still be on the computer.

[He left it here. He must be avoiding someone.]

[Shouldn't you be, like, working?]

[Shouldn't you be, like, hooking up?]

Bullshitting Brian is fun because you never know if he'll let you run with it. [Ew, Brian. No one says 'hook up'.]

Brian calls her on it. [Liar.]

[Is Justin home?]

[Was. He's in transition.]

Brian's a bitch when he's bored. [This is probably not the most effective way to inspire your employees to greatness.]

[*I'm* the great one, all they need to do is remember it.]

He's kind of amusing when he's a bitch. [What are you avoiding?]

[Meeting from hell. I was musing on the benefits of self-asphyxiation when this little treasure started throwing a tantrum on the desk.]

Molly grins while she stands in line at the cereal containers. [A girl on the debate team knows a girl who heard about the--] the line moves faster than Molly expects and she blends the last two words in an effort to look clever while managing to feed herself [--Babylombing.]

Brian doesn't respond until she's scouted out an empty table and sitting down at it. She's starting to worry that she's bruised the pace by making light of what happened. Brian doesn't do head injury jokes, so sayeth Justin. Maybe he's not a fan of using life-endangering events for humor purposes in general, particularly the ones involving Justin.

But then he writes, [Your big sister just called. His words: 'You're not there to socialize'.]

[Tell him to bite me.]

[And that's where I exit.]

Molly sends him a requisite [Screw you! ;)] note that Brian doesn't answer.

\---

Paris despises novices, but she's neutral with Molly.

She's not nice and she doesn't go out of her way to like, say hey or whatever. But that's a mighty far cry from how she treats the other novices.

"You can't rationally expect to stand up there and say, 'Hitler was a maladjusted bad man'. Because if you do, you should also probably know that puppies are fun and killing black people is bad."

"What's your case? Pro-life? Good idea. But there are three stages to the average good idea. 'Hey, that's an original concept!', 'Jesus, what a cliche' and 'Yes, that's an airplane and hey, it flies, move on'."

"Oh, stop crying! You asked for it, you practically mail-ordered it!"

Molly sees Paris in her coffee shop one day with a cinnamon roll. "Hey, Taylor," she says, and walks on.

\---

There's a tournament at UPenn in December around Justin's birthday. It's for advanced debaters, but Molly's been to two already and she usually wins purely by the confidence factor. She's going primarily as an LO--Paris told her that she'd work best as a Leader of the Opposition, the one who gets up and says, "My opponents are self-satisfied morons with no concept of what good debating entails"--and her partner, Steve Quill, isn't a total waste of creation. He'll last the round anyway.

Her first round is in an empty classroom that's normally used for science of some kind, if the foggy formulas on the board are any sign. Students from the host school judge the tournament, and her first Speaker of the House is a guy hunched over a comic book face-down on his desk. The Government (the Other Side) hasn't arrived yet, so Molly and Steve sign the board with their names (LO-Molly Taylor, MO-Steve Quill) and their team name (YALE TQ).

While they wait, Steve tries to butter up the judge (Mister Speaker, as Steve prefers to call him, the enormous dork). The kid doesn't acknowledge Steve until the "What the hell are you reading, dude?" comment. Then the kid kind of halfway grins and props the comic up vertical so they can see the cover.

"Fuck!" Steve nervously chuckle-coughs.

Molly doesn't need to see the cover to know immediately that today is going to be a big heap of suck. The second Hunter looked up she recognized him. Brian's friend's adopted, heteroflexible whorphan. He recognizes her, too.

"Shit, you're like, Justin's kid sister, right?"

Steve's entire muscular system freezes all the way up to his neck, leaving him free to volley terrorized looks from Hunter to Molly. You know the guy with the homo porn comic? goes thankfully unsaid.

She's got a copy of that comic in her dorm room. Justin lives under the bent assumption that sending his eighteen-year-old sister the cartoonized story of his sex life with Brian is a good idea. She has all three issues in her desk. Maybe she should pin one or two up above her desk for Cassidy to ponder during her brief periods of sobriety.

"We met at Pride," she says finally, because Steve is having a seizure and Hunter is losing interest in her face.

Hunter bounces his gaze upward and nods. "Right. Hey." He smirks. He shouldn't. "So how is he?"

Molly shrugs. "He's in Pittsburgh for the holidays. Mom says he's stressing out over some show for some big name Europeans in London."

"He's staying with Brian?"

Uh. "Yeah."

"Well, what sex can't cure, there's no cure for." The smirk. Ew. No.

The Government shows up moments before Steve expires from exorbitant homosexual exposure.

Every time she's had to be the Prime Minister (the one who has to come with a pre-written case), Molly either came on too strong and missed a few crucial points, or she was too bored to pay attention to where her wandering mouth was taking her. Both times cost her and her partner the round.

But there are disadvantages to being the LO, too.

"Until the 1970's, some organizations referred to homosexuality as a 'mental disorder'. We believe that using derogative terms such as these should be considered grounds for harassment."

You don't know what you'll be arguing, for example.

Hunter lets out a startled chuckle, but Molly's not worried about winning. All she has to do is toss in some freedom of speech, proving mass stupidity by allowing it to be out there in the open and a few cutting remarks about suppression of rights and the round's hers. Even Steve can't fumble it. No, she's thinking about what happens when Hunter goes home and tells the guy that blabs everything to Brian. *Brian* will applaud her debating skills, but Justin will get sullen and take up the cross for homosexuals worldwide.

She wins, predictably, and Hunter writes his number on her score sheet with a little sketch of a cell phone next to it.

\---

She sends an E-Mail to Paris on the drive to her mom's house. She describes the debate and Hunter and asks whether or not she can report him for letting her tits win. She doesn't mention that her brother is ignoring her and iron-fisting the steering wheel.

Brian gave her fair warning over the phone when the tournament ended that not only had Hunter told his dad, he'd told him on speakerphone with Justin in the room. Brian also added that Justin may or may not have thrown breakables when he heard.

Hunter's report: "She totally smashed this pro-gay case--it was a bloodbath, man. No survivors."

Justin still picked her up from UPenn, but he didn't pretend to be happy about it.

They've been driving for twenty minutes and Molly's not about to apologize that his lover's friend's kid is a lecherous Chicken Little.

Instead she cracks open Wuthering Heights and goes for justified martyrdom.

They get to their mother's house without a word spoken. He doesn't get out of the car and she has to bang on the trunk until he presses the button to open it.

"Fucking infant," she mutters, shucking her dufflebag over her shoulder.

All of a sudden the engine cuts off and Justin's tearing out of the car and into the house. The THWACK of the front door slamming punctuates the end of the beginning. Conflict established.

\---

The first time her mom went to New York for a week to visit Justin, Molly got letters from Smith, William and Mary, Brandeis and Yale. Smith accepted her, William and Mary rejected her, Brandeis waitlisted her and Yale offered her a scholarship.

She tried holding out for Brandeis, but her dad, salivating over his brood in the Ivy League, swayed her by offering to pay for an apartment off-campus sophomore year.

She called her mom to tell her that she'd sent back the check and her confirmation to Yale. Her mom was upset that she'd made the decision without her, but Molly didn't see the injustice. Leave for a week, you miss shit.

She was seventeen and totally liberated, exercising her freedom by driving to Barnes & Noble and reading for six hours at a time. She'd never met any of Justin's Other Family, so she didn't even recognize Brian when she got home at ten to find him at the front door. She turned the engine off and sat there brainstorming, even though Brian had already seen her pull up. She remembered Justin's E-Mail about girls getting kidnapped and raped (P.S. CARRY PEPPERSPRAY) but as Brian walked under the light on the garage, she thought, Can't rape the willing.

Brian never said why he'd come, but while she microwaved her oatmeal she heard him from the living room saying, "She's home on a Friday night making herself porridge for dinner. She's not some demented miscreant out wandering the streets looking to lose her virginity under a lamppost."

A month later she met Debbie who told her the Brian and Justin story. A week after that, she met Emmett, who doted on her even though she reminded him of an "even girlier Brian". The next day, over lasagna and milk at Debbie's house, she met Carl and Michael. She suspected there was some replacement syndrome going around, one Taylor to replace the other, but over Thanksgiving dinner, she saw Justin smiling mawkishly at Brian and later she overheard Emmett say to Ted, "He's branched out to Lost Girls."

After dinner, she opened her cell phone to call her dad and wish him a Happy Thanksgiving and she was startled to see numbers for Debbie's home, Michael's comic book store, Ben's office at the university and Brian's office. When she looked up, she met Justin's knowing smile and felt a safety net open beneath her.

\---

It's Christmas and Hunter's a crazy drunk. "You know what's fucked up about French people?"

It's this or watching Brian and her brother make out. "What."

"They call window-shopping like, leche vitrine. And that means 'window licking'. Cos, like, you salivate on the glass over shit you can't have. So, like, in France, you lick what you can't have."

She gathers up her eggnog, purse and Wuthering Heights and leaves to drag the only intelligent conversation within a twenty-mile radius off her brother's tongue.

She hears Debbie smack Hunter upside the head and snap, "Don't you ever fuckin' talk to girls like that!"

She likes Debbie.

\---

Molly gets back to Yale on New Year's Day. Hardly anyone's back yet, only a few sports teams like rowing and track. She wakes up on a weekday and wanders to the lecture hall they usually hold debate in. She brings Catcher in the Rye because she's never read it and the lecture hall seems like an intelligent place to read in.

Paris is there behind the lectern, ranting at the empty seats.

Molly remembers right after Justin got beaned in the head and was living at their condo. When he went apeshit and started breaking everything in his room. It's this kind of anger Paris is exuding when she debates, only she's probably not miming a soap opera at her mom for separating her from her much-older gay lover.

Molly props her shoulder on the doorway and watches Paris slam her hands on the lectern palms-open, emphasizing some point about eugenics.

Abruptly, Paris pauses mid sentence ("If everyone is brilliant, no one is--") and looks piercingly at her notebook.

Molly takes the opportunity to scuff her sneaker-toe on the wood floor. Paris doesn't look up, barely reacts except for a reflexive blink at the squeak of rubber.

"How was your break?"

Molly walks in and takes a seat where the PM usually sits. "My brother's still mad at me. Brian had to drive me to the airport cos he was being such a girl."

"Did he get you anything for Christmas?"

"An iPod. I already have one, but he didn't know. My dad got me one for my birthday."

Paris doesn't ask the obvious question and continues to pore over her notes. "Who's Brian?"

"Brother's boyfriend."

Paris doesn't hmm.

"What are you going to do with it?"

"Return it. Get credit. It's the same one my dad got me, so whatever. They'll see me using it and think they're brilliant gift-giving prodigies."

"Hmm."

\---

Molly calls Brian's loft but no one answers. There are two possible reasons for this, and one of them involves her brother naked, so she decides he's on a plane back to New York.

She leaves a message on his cell phone telling him to call her. She's not asking him for shit.

Classes have been back in session for a week before Justin finally gets back to her. He sends her an E-Mail.

[CALL ME AFTER SIX.]

He doesn't ask for shit, either. She hates sharing that with him.

She has a class at five thirty, but she sneaks out to the bathroom at six fifteen to call her big sister.

"You need to relax."

He doesn't say anything for a minute and Molly waits, back against a sink. She's willing to wait him out.

"Fine," he says. "Just. Okay."

"In debate, you can't argue the cases you agree with all the time. Sometimes you have to argue the other side even if you think it's total crap. You have to challenge yourself to get better."

Again, a pause. "Yeah. I know. I just. I know that. I did debate in high school."

"So, what the fuck?" She doesn't curse a lot, but he does and he knows she doesn't. He knows she's trying to get through to him. Arguing from his side.

The pauses are getting longer, even though he hasn't said anything of substance yet.

"I'm not just gay, you know."

There are so many openings she could take from that, but she doesn't.

He knows it, too, and he sounds vastly relieved that she took the mature path. She guesses Brian isn't always as accommodating as she is. "I don't think we know each other as well as we should. Like. After the bashing. I didn't. You were."

She's never heard him so lost for words. He's always been the child that doesn't shut up when he's trying to make a point. Still, she wants to hear him say what she thinks he's trying to get across.

He takes a second to regroup, breathing tensely into the phone. "Brian knows you better than I do," he says slowly, like it's just dawning on him.

And he's probably right. While Justin was in New York, she started doing her homework at the diner and she took Ben's class during her second semester of senior year. And Brian was always somewhere in the background, letting her call him at work or on his cell phone. She stopped calling Justin every Friday because Daphne was taking her shopping for dorm supplies. She forgot whose family this was, but it didn't seem to matter because all of them loved her, too.

And she knows it's unfair, but it's not like she had much of her own family anymore.

Then suddenly, she doesn't want him to say it. He's been center-stage for years and it's about time he should fight for it.

"Come down here for winter break. We'll do the quality brother-sister thing until we hate each other like we used to."

He sends her his flight confirmation.

\---

"What do you think of Hunter?"

Justin's an ass.

Molly picked him up from the airport around noon and now the two of them are at the sandwich place she can't live without. Sitting across from each other at a small round table, eating wraps that were sent from Heaven.

"He's a skank."

Justin chokes and turns red laughing. He puts the wrap down and wipes lettuce off his mouth with the back of his hand. Gay or not, he's still a guy.

Hunter was in college during Molly's integration into the Liberty Avenue Family. They only met once, when Deb guilted him into coming home for Pride. Molly wanted to go to get a better idea of what kind of life her brother'd been living for the past five years. Brian introduced them, smirking in a way Molly didn't trust. She realized why when Hunter started raving about his last swim meet and Brian was nowhere to be seen.

"He let my rack win that round."

Justin takes a pull of his Snapple Iced Tea and grins. She thought he'd get defensive on her behalf, but he knows Hunter better than she does and probably knows he's not a threat. She's annoyed she can't read her own brother better. But they'll get better.

"I'm going to major in political science," she says, which surprises her. She'd been considering it and Paris said she'd destroy Congress if she ever ran. She's never said it out loud though.

Justin doesn't look surprised. Delighted, yes, but not surprised.

They spend the rest of their lunch talking about his shows in Europe and her tournaments all over the country. Their Taylor invasion.

\---

Molly didn't think families were allowed to watch rounds.

[I've never heard of it happening, but maybe if they made special arrangements...]

Molly wonders if the judge thought she was odd for walking in the classroom, looking at the back of the classroom and bolting back into the hallway. And slamming the door. Paris's reply doesn't help a lot, but at least it's not out and out forbidden.

Debbie, Michael, Ben and Hunter are still in desks at the back of the classroom when she goes in again.

She gives a little wave, looking at the judge with a sheepish grin. The girl twists a mess of curls around her fist and smiles back wearily. It's eight thirty in the morning and Pittsburgh is six hours from New York.

All at once, organizing her notes and ignoring the confused looks Angela's pointing at her, Molly remembers Justin's E-Mail about a show in Manhattan three blocks over last night. No one called her, so she guesses this is Debbie's idea of a surprise visit. She wonders who found out where the tournament was and what room she'd be in.

She smells ad exec.

The Government gets up and proposes a case against fast food.

Molly kicks their asses with her family watching.

\---

There's a split dinner, half for Justin's show and half for Molly's shiny trophy in the trunk of Justin's Lexus.

She's getting Geraldine's cell phone number when Paris skulks into the room, shoulders squared. Geraldine reaches out and trails a hand through Paris's ponytail as she storms by, and Molly admires her bravery. Geraldine's gotten fond of Paris in past months, having partnered with her at a few tournaments. Paris never treats it as an honor to debate with their president and Geraldine loves her for it.

"What time will you be back by?" Geraldine asks while Paris throws things into her purse. They're staying in the dorms at NYU and Molly's not sure that all the stuff Paris is grabbing actually belongs to her.

She thinks about Christmas, the last time The Family was all together, and that catching up will probably take a few hours. "Midnight, maybe a little after."

"'Kay. I'm not trying to baby you, but I'm responsible for you while we're here. Do I have your cell number? Yes, I do. Have fun, sweetie. Call me when you get back so I know you're good."

Molly's on the sidewalk trying to attract a taxi to the curb when Paris appears next to her.

"Men are all bleeding hearts. I feel the need to crush them all."

Paris's ex-boyfriend Doyle goes to NYU. They had a violently public falling out over the break and he transferred. He ran into Paris on the subway and asked cattily if she'd met Hillary Clinton yet.

So Molly invites Paris to dinner. They split the cost of the cab and Molly suddenly has money for a trip to Strand.

Justin and Brian are outside the restaurant, cigarettes sending little trails of smoke into the confused rush of the night. They're having a couple moment, Brian standing one step below Justin, his shoulder supporting Justin's arm. Before they see Paris and Molly walking up, Justin occasionally drags his fingers through the hair tucked into Brian's collar, mussing it. Brian smirks up at him and taps ash off his cigarette dangerously close to Justin's very expensive jeans.

Justin sees them first and the sudden lack of attention makes Brian look around, too. Justin kisses her on the cheek and Brian grins at her. She kissed him goodbye at Christmas and he'd looked simultaneously confused and stunned.

"This is my." Molly thinks, "huh". "This is Paris."

Brian and Justin smirk.

\---

Dinner stupefies Molly. There were a lot of people at Thanksgiving and Christmas, but that was in Deb's house, with people randomly wandering in and out of the kitchen. Here they're all at one table and stuck where they sit.

Molly somehow got one end of the table, Hunter at the other end. Her mother, Justin, Daphne and Debbie on her right, Ben, Michael, Paris and Brian to her left. The orchids Ben bought her are under the table next to her chair.

While her brother explains the differences between Monet and Manet to Debbie, Hunter mimes stabbing himself in the eye with his spoon. Brian snickers and Debbie visibly mourns the distance preventing her from slapping him.

Michael talks about the newest villain for his and Justin's comic, a weasel hypnotist with bad facial hair. Brian casts an amused look at Justin over the table and Justin looks like he wants to beat Michael with a bowl. Apparently not a good subject for dinner, though Molly may need to ask Deb to footnote later.

"Hypnotism is bullshit," Paris says savagely.

Sound halts.

She hasn't spoken at all during the meal and Molly was starting to worry. Brian's reaction is the best.

"Bullshit is bullshit."

Justin coughs and Daphne giggles. Debbie should write a reference guide.

Paris doesn't understand Brian's sense of humor and takes it as a challenge. "Why would you willingly surrender your control to some crackpot with a degree in psychology?"

"Same reason people pay to see magic. They want to believe in bullshit."

Paris's mouth is already open to bite back, but he gets her off-guard with that one. She blinks at him and the table holds its breath.

"Paris Geller." She holds out her hand and like that Paris and Brian become the Axis Powers of the dinner table.

\---

Justin hugs her for four minutes on the curb. She almost forgot her timer in the dorm and she had to run back up to get it, so she's holding it when he puts his arms around her back and squeezes. She doesn't mean to hit the button but it surprises her and she watches the seconds race as her brother embraces her for the first time in six years.

Her mother pets her hair and gives her her new cell phone number in New York. Debbie kisses her on the forehead and Hunter wipes off the lipstick. Michael kisses her cheek and Ben kisses the other. Daphne reminds her to call the next time she's in Pittsburgh so they can see the new Johnny Depp together.

Paris comes up next to her and Molly sees that her teammates are already in the two rental SUVs waiting for her. Debbie's still planning Easter break, so Paris takes Molly's dufflebag and her trophy to the car.

There's a stretch of silence where Molly realizes this is where she's supposed to say ciao and walk the other way. They've all said goodbye to her and she has no excuse to linger. Except. Brian walks up, keys still in hand, and she was wondering where he was.

Before she can over think it, she goes up to him and hugs him around the neck. He's expecting it this time, but he still jumps a little. She won't tell.

He puts a hand between her shoulder blades and doesn't say anything. He takes a breath like maybe he will, but she pulls back before he can. She hears him better when he doesn't say anything. He smiles at her like he understands.

Paris comes back to fetch Molly and Hunter sort of recoils. Debbie is half in love with Paris and any woman resembling Debbie evidently freaks him out. Paris gets a hug from Debbie and small waves from everyone else. Brian shakes her hand.

Molly waited too long to get a good seat, so she's stuck in the middle between Steve and Paris. Looking in the rear view mirror and seeing her family waving at her, though, she thinks it's cool to be stuck with people.


End file.
